My father's hands, tender yet the firmest you've ever known
He can fix anything, even the inner chaos of an analogue watch
And I see him building a new gate, one arc at a time through the air - a heavy mallet
Always I'm in awe of how a strong man can be so fair
Each post has a birth of stone foundations, and I level in each small rock and stand back as they sink in with a metallic sheen, hiding my amazement with grim satisfaction
But my heart alive and like everytime, he knowingly smiles
Copyright ©️ David Bosworth 2026